A Soft Heart
by Kalira69
Summary: Stiles has been spirited away into the Underground, but he wasn't half so frightened until he realised Derek came after him.


Written for a request, via Tumblr, from Mad-Madam-M.

* * *

Stiles picked at the ridiculous verdant, soft, healthy grass he was sitting on and glared up at the figure standing over him. She could almost have been a statue, save for the occasional stirring of her hair or gossamer-silken clothes, or the fire in her bright eyes.

He huffed. "So did you actually have a _plan_ or did you just kidnap me by accident - no shame in admitting it; it's happened before," he told her reassuringly, and her eyes snapped to him, "leaving you determined to somehow make the best of me?"

Blood red lips quirked and inhumanly crystalline green eyes narrowed slightly.

"Not that this place isn't _lovely_ ," Stiles put as much insincerity and disdain into the single word as he could, silently thanking Lydia for that skill, which he'd strengthened from watching her, "but it does somewhat lose its lustre when I've been _dragged_ here. Not to mention," he fidgeted, but though there were visible bonds holding him, he couldn't move much, "I have been sitting in this same spot for _quite some time_ and there is only so much entertainment to be had from _a patch of grass_. Do you plan to do something any time soon?"

"Quite a mouth on you, little mortal." the fae said, a burble of maybe-laughter that sounded like an _actual stream burbling_ in her tone. _Fae._ For fuck's sake. "I am still . . . deciding." She grinned sharply and Stiles' stomach turned over unpleasantly.

Thus far he hadn't been hurt, not really, not when she had caught hold of him or when she dragged him off through the worlds into the Underground - she'd been surprised when Stiles knew immediately where they were, but he had no idea how anyone with an ounce of familiarity with the supernatural could possibly _miss_ it. Nor had he been hurt - or indeed anything at all other than _bored out of his skull_ \- through all the time since, the hours on end - days? It was hard to tell in the timeless shift of the fae realm.

"Are you sure you wish to try and," the fae paused delicately, " _rush_ my decision on what to do with you, mouthy little mortal?" she asked.

Stiles scowled, but . . . held his tongue.

The fae smirked at him, and it got much _harder_ , but Stiles stayed silent. He was aware his resolve to do that was going to falter sooner or later - probably sooner; he was jittery and his mind had been racing and rebounding from point to point for hours, and with nothing to focus on _but_ his captor.

" _Stiles!_ "

Stiles and the fae both startled at the half-howl, thick with desperation and relief.

Almost simultaneously, Stiles' heart soared - rescue, then, Derek was _here_ , coming for Stiles - and then dropped - Derek shouldn't be here, not _here_ , why was Derek here? He was going to get _hurt_ , running into the Underground - how had he even _gotten_ himself here? Stiles looked warily at the fae who had captured him, stomach knotting as a chill ran through him.

One of her winged eyebrows arched slightly, and then Derek reached Stiles, bowling him over into the welcoming softness of the grass. "Stiles!" Derek's eyes were brilliant blue and his breath came harshly between his fangs. "You're all right!"

"D- Sourwolf!" Stiles cut himself off before he could say even only part of Derek's proper names. He smoothed his hands over Derek's arms and up to his shoulders. "Of course I am. You're- _here_." he added. Derek shoved his nose up along Stiles' cheek, whining softly under his breath as he scented Stiles. His fingers were trembling against Stiles' hips.

Stiles reached to push him back enough to get a look at him - was he _that_ upset, or had it taken so much out of him to get here? - but Derek whimpered a soft _I love you_ in his ear and Stiles stilled, surprised. He smoothed a comforting hand over Derek's back, realising as he shifted to try and accommodate Derek's broad, pushy body that he wasn't quite so harshly restrained any more. It was a relief, but deadened below new worries.

"I _saw_ you," Derek said, almost snuffling against his neck below his ear, and at least the fae who had taken him was doing nothing more than watching, as she had when it was just Stiles on the ground at her feet, "I saw you bleed and die, god, Stiles, I love you and I _saw that_ and. . ."

Stiles' eyes widened and he gripped Derek tighter, shocked. "What?" he said blankly, then rested a light hand at the nape of Derek's neck. "Oh, Sourwolf. . ."

"I love you." Derek pressed into his throat along with a delicate scrape of teeth. "I love you, I love you, _I love you_. . ." he mumbled over and over, the words blending together into a half-senseless mess.

Stiles didn't forget where they were, but their situation seemed . . . stable, and he focused on soothing his poor wolf. _Seeing_ Stiles die. . . Damn fucking _fae_ anyway. Derek was already something of a mess, that would have been. . . Hell, it was progress that Derek was actually _seeking_ comfort for it instead of just breaking. Stiles rubbed between Derek's shoulder blades, crooning softly into one pointed ear and pressing his cheek against Derek's.

His arms were a little too tight around Stiles' ribs, but he wouldn't have complained even if it hadn't felt like Derek was holding himself together with the embrace. He was still talking, breathless and soft, though Stiles only guessed at the words because he'd heard them at the start. "I'm okay." he promised, though he wasn't entirely sure Derek was paying attention. "Sourwolf I'm alive, I'm here." he soothed.

"Stiles. . ." Derek's voice steadied a little, though he whimpered in a brief stretch of no words. "I love you." he said again, half-desperate. Stiles kissed his cheek as he let a tiny bit more space come between them.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

Stiles broke away from nuzzling Derek's face, quirking a brow at the blunt words. "Are fae supposed to curse? I feel like fae aren't supposed to curse." he said, smirking.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Curses are _definitely_ within the fae purview," she said silkily, "and if you want me to clean up my language I can go back to tradition. . ."

Derek snarled, his tense muscles bunching as he pulled Stiles even closer against his chest.

"Nope! No, that's . . . fine!" Stiles said hastily.

The fae smiled slightly. "I've always had a soft heart for the wild boys. . ." she said, her eyes roaming over Derek, and Stiles tensed, fingers digging into Derek's waist as he gripped his boyfriend protectively tight. He met her gaze defiantly, glaring.

"Now, now, I'm doing you a _favour_ , clever little mortal." She drifted towards them and bowed close. "You are _free_." she breathed, and the gossamer binding Stiles had felt around his very heart for what seemed like days loosened, then fell away.

His eyes widened. The fae straightened, and lifted a hand, pointing beyond them. A crack heralded the opening of a door. "Go." she said firmly. "I won't keep you, just don't tell anyone how you fled," she smiled wryly as Stiles blinked, surprised, "you're a clever thing. Make up a story about how you outwitted me instead." She winked.

Derek growled softly, sounding more confused than angry now.

Stiles petted his back soothingly and smiled. "I can do that." he promised her, bowing his head. She inclined hers in return, and then disappeared in a sparkling swirl, and they were tumbling through the open door to land on grass that was _blessedly_ rough and patched with dying tufts.

Mortal grass in the human realm, and Stiles was slightly crushed under his boyfriend's stupidly heavy, muscular body. He tightened his arms around Derek's shoulders and kissed him softly. "Oh Derek," he breathed, not sure _why_ he was trusting the fae who had captured him before, but he was, "I love you too." he said, voice rough.

Derek pressed him flat in the grass, nuzzling up his throat and kissing him, fanged mouth gently-rough and needy against Stiles'. Stiles clung to him just as much in return, shaking with relief after far too long wound tight and just _waiting_ for something to happen. . .

Stiles pressed his brow to Derek's, fingers catching at his neck and shoulders. "You saved me again, Sourwolf." he said quietly, nudging his nose against Derek's.

"I hoped you were still. . . I _saw_ , but-" Derek nuzzled Stiles in return and kissed him again, lingering and soft. His electric blue eyes locked with Stiles'. "I didn't believe you would go like that. It was too easy."

Stiles grinned, smoothing his fingers over Derek's ruffled hair. "Hey, you know me. Mouthy and kicking all the way. I wouldn't leave you so easily." he added, barely a breath, his heart tight with relief - and pleasure - that Derek _had_ that faith in him.

* * *

Obviously Stiles doesn't know how long he was in the Underground even from _his_ side . . . but there's no telling how long it's been from the mortal world. (Personally I had it in mind as Stiles has been there for about three days, and three weeks have passed Aboveground. It could certainly read differently, however - three days? three hours? three months?)

The prompt for this one was from a 'the way you said "I love you"' meme, specifically "Over and over again, till it's nothing but a senseless babble" and I am still accepting prompts at my Tumblr! (Kalira9)


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